Butterflies
by slowgin
Summary: Weeping Willows extended. I've never liked the way it ended.


This is based off Weeping Willows. Catherine was being, well, stupid in that one but Gil was worse 'cause he acted like a jackass. His reaction has always bothered me because it seemed way more than a lab integrity thing. Catherine had a way of getting to him like no one else could. So anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Oh yeah, and btw, there is dialogue from the episode so I guess it belongs to them. I just took it and ran with it.

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><p>Gil Grissom was snapping pictures of the dead girl. He'd called for back up. Catherine Willows, his right and left hand had just arrived and although he was concentrating on the scene before him, he was also feeling a familiar flutter in his stomach. They had worked together for several years; shared many breakfasts, a few drinks, and recently had been sharing secrets. For Grissom, they hadn't been deep secrets; he wasn't the kind of man who revealed too much, ever. But to be close enough to anyone to share anything beyond work was thrilling to him, something he hadn't experienced in a very long time. And she seemed to know him so well. So much so that it also scared the 'you know what' out of him. Consequently, when she was near, his butterflies fluttered. Trying to ignore them, he returned his focus to the scene. "David, you want to take the, uh, jacket off her face?"<p>

David Phillips, from the Coroner's office, removed the jacket, revealing that the woman was blonde. Grissom looked at Catherine and noticed a cut on her cheek. Disconcerted, he considered the possibilities. It hadn't been so long ago that she'd been the victim of Eddie Willows' abuse.

"What happened to you?" He asked as his fingers drew a mirrored line across his own face. Concern and worry filled him, making his chest tight.

"I walked into a door," she answered nervously. "Can we not talk about it?" Her response worried him even more, but he knew that tone and realized that pursuing it would only anger her.

David, Catherine, and Detective Vartann continued to discuss the victim, Alice Granger, as Grissom contemplated the cut. Then switching back to the girl, he commented. "Usually when a killer covers the victim's face, it suggests familiarity. An act of contrition."

Catherine nodded. "Maybe she knew her attacker."

"Great. Carjacked by a friend," Grissom commented cynically, his mind more on his friend and the mysterious cut.

Vartann received a phone call and announced that they had located the victim's car. Grissom encouraged Catherine to go with Vartann to check out the car while he stayed with the body. He would catch up to her later. He finished gathering information about the body at the scene, collecting all the evidence that he could, still wondering about Catherine's cut. His butterflies were at work again, for a less pleasant reason.

Catherine perused the parking lot of the Highball as she and Vartann walked over to the officer standing near Alice Granger's car.

Vartann asked him, "You see anybody get out of the car?"

The officer, one Catherine didn't know, answered. "No, sir. Saw it on patrol."

"You checked the bar?" Vartann asked.

"I waited for you. No one's exited since we got here," replied the officer.

Catherine looked in the car window and then asked one of the techs nearby to open the car. Watching as he went to work, her uneasiness grew. It hadn't been but a few hours since she'd been in the same lot, where she'd received the cut that had concerned Grissom.

"I found a gun under the seat," Catherine called out as she looked around the interior of the car. As she took the gun out, Grissom walked up.

".22 Beretta," she said.

"Well, that's small enough to be the weapon," Grissom speculated.

Vartann reasoned, "So he shoots her, takes her car, and stops off for a drink."

"He could still be in there," Grissom guessed as he nodded toward the club. After bagging the gun, Catherine followed Vartann with a knot

in her stomach. She really didn't want her previous visit to come to light.

As the case progressed Catherine realized where the evidence was taking them and her potential need to recuse herself. With trepidation she decided to tell Grissom about meeting a prime suspect at the same club earlier in the evening. She was nervous as she entered his office. He was putting down the phone as she began to talk but he had other things on his mind. So she followed him as he walked to the DNA lab. Mia explained the problem. The same DNA was showing up in test after test. It was potentially a huge problem for the lab and she understood why Grissom was worried.

By the time he'd finished with Mia it was like he'd forgotten that Catherine needed to talk to him. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, he was gone again. "Now what?" she asked herself.

Later, Vartann and Grissom were interviewing the suspect, Adam Novak. Catherine knew now she had to step up. She paused outside momentarily as Novak talked.

"I was deposing a witness. Left the office late. Stopped at the Peppermill for a burger. Medium rare. No onions. Got to the Highball around 11:00. Met this redhead. Bought her a drink and ..." Novak looked up when he saw her walk into the interview room.

Grissom turned around wondering why she was there. Had she uncovered new evidence? Catherine cleared her throat and introduced herself. "Mr. Novak ... I'm Catherine Willows, CSI." He turned back to Novak.

Novak scoffed. "You want to know what happened next? Ask the redhead." Both Grissom and Vartann turned and looked at her questionably.

Catherine watched the rest of the interview from the observation room. Novak continued arrogantly, "I know when a woman is going to give way and believe me, she was there.

"And then what?" Vartann asked.

"I walked her out."

Catherine felt Grissom walk to her side as he turned to watch also.

"I put my arm around her waist. She moved in. One minute she's got

her tongue down my throat. The next, she puts on the brakes. She's a bitch and a tease. She told me to get lost ... "

Inwardly, Gil Grissom was cringing. Novak had…he didn't even want to think about what Novak had done…what Catherine had let him do; what they might have done if she hadn't put the brakes on.

"We should ask for his clothes. Black leather jacket, black t-shirt,

Jeans," Catherine said.

Grissom studied her momentarily. Inside he was in turmoil, anger and disappointment battling for dominance. "What else should we ask him, Catherine?"

Catherine sighed. "This is what I was trying to tell you."

"Yeah, but you didn't, so now I'm way behind. Is he telling the truth?" His feelings were muddled as he contemplated the nuances of the situation.

"He's not lying about anything that pertains to me."

Grissom turned and looked at Catherine, shaken. "He hit you."

"No, it was an accident. But ... by the time it happened, he wasn't

who I thought he was, and ... that scared me."

Grissom turned back to the interview room, his mind digesting everything that he had heard and his stomach tightening. Inside, a part of him was crying... why did she let that scum touch her?

After Novak left Grissom told Catherine, "You have to recuse yourself from processing evidence. This guy's a lawyer. He could claim prejudicial treatment. Your whole life will become public record."

"I have nothing to be ashamed of."

"We all live in glass houses, Catherine. You gotta be careful where

you take your shower." Inwardly, he was reeling. Anger and frustration warred with other things...feelings he didn't understand.

Grissom walked away, as Catherine stared after him._ I didn't do anything wrong…_

The investigation continued but since she wasn't on it anymore, she went home. As she turned toward her house she was terrified to see Novak standing on t he front walk talking to her mother and daughter. Hastily she dialed 911 and left the phone on the seat of her car.

She walked towards the small group and told her mother and Lindsey to go inside. They were reluctant but finally her mother picked up on her look and understood. As they walked away police sirens could be heard in the distance. Novak turned to her in a threatening manner and she pulled her gun, holding him off.

Novak turned to see the patrol cars at the end of the street. "You bitch," he said as he turned back to her.

"You came to my house," she said angrily.

Another dead girl was found and Catherine did work that case. And it led back to Novak. But something didn't fit and she kept after it. Finally both cases were over. The first girl's ex had done it and tried to frame Novak.

Catherine spotted Grissom walking down the hall, writing on a page in a file folder. "Gil," she said as she fell in beside him. He looked up, his gut wrenching once again at the sight of her. There were so many things he wanted to say, so much that he was feeling. He just didn't know how to even begin. And what would the consequences be?

"I'd ask you out for a drink, but under the circumstances, it's, uh

..." she started but then dropped it as he looked at her and then back at his file. His silence was deafening. "Okay, how long is this going to go on?" Her annoyance was palatable.

"I don't know, Catherine," he replied with a small sigh.

"Gil, it was an act of omission."

"How many times have we heard a public defender say that?" He shot back.

Frustrated, she kept trying. "I went out after work. Is it a crime to want a little human contact?"

Grissom heard the frustration in her voice. It matched his own, along with his inner turmoil. And then, he did what he always did, he hid what he truly felt and acted like the ass that he was. "I guess that's why I don't go out," he said as he walked away.

Catherine stopped, throwing her hands out in frustration. _What the hell…_

Grissom walked into his office closing the door behind him a little too forcefully. And then he threw the file on his desk, his frustration boiling over. _Why did I do that...say what I said…just walk away like that? Why do I keep punishing her like that?_

He fell more than sat in his chair, a sigh escaping as he landed. And then he thought about it… about her… with that Novak guy. _Why does she do that… hang out with guys like that? _Leaning back in his chair, her words rang in his ears. "Is it a crime to want a little human contact?"

Fighting to control his breathing, he silently answered her. _It's not. But I want it to be with me…_ his heart cried he looked at his door and uncharacteristically, he made a sudden decision. Instantly he was out of his chair, hurrying down the halls to find her.

"I think I saw her heading out the front door," Nick told him in response to his inquiry.

Grissom hurried through the door, his feet moving quickly, almost running. Unaware of onlookers who were surprised to see him moving so fast, he made it to the parking lot out front. She'd parked at the end of the curb and he spotted her, just climbing into her car. Heart beating in his chest, he hustled to catch her and made it to her passenger door just as she put the car in gear to back out.

Startled by his sudden appearance, she rolled down the window. "Grissom, what the hell?"

Fighting to catch his breath, he tried to speak. "It... its not. But... but... "

"But what?" She looked at him, confused.

"I... I want..." he gulped for air and for courage. She looked at him, befuddled. "What? You want what?" She snapped.

Determination settled over him as his blue eyes met hers. "I want it to be me."

A frown flashed over her features. "You want what to be you?"

He gulped. "Have a drink with me," he asked hopefully.

"But I thought... you said..."

"I don't want you meeting guys like Novak, Catherine. Because," he gulped again. "Because I want it to be me." Butterflies crashed into the walls of his stomach painfully as he watched for a response from her.

Her eyes widened. "You want... to go for drinks...to... to..."

"I want your human contact to be me," he said with more confidence than he was really feeling.

Now thoroughly confused, she sighed. "Gil?"

Briefly he closed his eyes. "Please Catherine. Can we please just... talk?"

She studied him carefully. He looked distressed and ...hopeful. And his eyes...how could she resist his eyes. "Get in," she ordered. The next thing she knew, he was in her passenger seat and they were headed for the Highball.

They sat at a table in the corner. Across the room she could see Adam Novak making a move on another unsuspecting woman. She turned her attention back to Gil, who was staring at her mutely. "So, you said you wanted to talk?"

Trying to calm his butterflies, he took a deep breath. "Do you think... a guy like me could..."

"Could what, Gil?" She asked after he seemed to stop. Getting him to open up was like pulling teeth, she thought.

"Make you happy..."

Surprised, Catherine tilted her head. "You want to make me happy?"

"I want to make you very happy."

A smile worked at the corners of her mouth. "How?"

His eyes began to sparkle as his butterflies fluttered happily. "I was hoping you'd tell me."

"Well, you could start by opening up a little."

"I've been working on that. But then what?" he asked.

"I know. And as for what's next, I dunno...we go out some."

He nodded. "And then?"

"You're a smart man, Gil. I think you'll figure it out."

Three months later, she lay curled next to him in his bed. Neither wore clothes but both wore contented smiles. Lifting her head to nuzzle his neck just below his ear, "now that's what I call figuring it out," she whispered.

A small satisfied grunt sounded from his chest. "Figuring what out?"

She looked at the self-satisfied, little boy expression on his face and then nibbled on his earlobe gently. "How to make me happy," she purred.

The butterflies in his stomach fluttered gleefully as he turned to kiss her and demonstrate just how happy she made him.


End file.
